


a visual representation of holiday wishes

by dizzy



Series: byebye 20gayteen daily fic advent [23]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: prompt:Dan is a barista, and Phil is a customer. Dan tries to flirt via phallic foam latte art on Phil's drinks(altered it slightly, sorry!)





	a visual representation of holiday wishes

Dan wakes up in a mood after too little sleep and no food the night before. His head aches and his stomach is grumbling and he smells like coffee. Always, every day, the scent clinging to him like a film no matter how many showers be takes or what scent of soap he buys. He'll be fifty and wake up smelling coffee, he thinks. 

Or he'll just be fifty and still have this same fucking job, at the rate he's going. 

He forces his eyes open. The ceiling stars back at him. Same shit flat he fell asleep in. Same ikea bed he fantasizes about replacing. Same phone alarm blaring in his ear. 

He reaches a hand out and slaps it off, taking a deep breath. At least it's Saturday, and that means he's got one good thing going for him: Phil's coming by. 

*

He's halfway to work before he realizes that it's three days before Christmas and Phil might not be by. 

He tries to shove the thought out of his head. He needs his little reward system to get him through the day sometimes, especially around this time of year. Sunday and Monday are his days off. He gets to sleep as long as he wants then wake up and play video games and masturbate until he passes out again. Wednesdays and Fridays he goes to the little bakery up the street and has a pistachio pastry in place of lunch. 

Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are when Phil comes in. 

It used to just be a fun game in his head. Get the cute guy who wore the obnoxious Spiro jumper last January to notice him without Dan actually having to say a word. 

But as winter bled into spring, he lost the plot of it all. Because Phil did notice him - and he noticed the foam designs Dan put on his drinks on Saturdays when Phil obviously came in to stay a while. And moreover, Phil didn't really wait around for Dan's game to play out to any conclusion. The very third time Dan did it Phil walked right up to him afterward with a bright, open smile and said, "Hi, I'm Phil, and was that a lion face in my latte?"

*

Phil spoke right to him every time after that. The other baristas clocked it fast, the lack of Dan's usual avoidance of being friendly with regulars.

He's not good enough friends with anyone else for them to feel comfortable calling him on it, but they all gradually began leaving Phil's drink for Dan to make every time. Tuesdays and Thursdays are just stop ins for a drink to go; sometimes flustered hurried ones and sometimes ones that linger. Sometimes he buys a muffin or a biscotti, sometimes he's already got a sandwich in his hand eating it as he orders. 

(Sometimes he brings Dan biscuits from the same little pastry shop Dan likes so much and slips them over the counter with a wink.

And if Dan coasts on that for the rest of the week, well, he's not gonna turn down anything that gives him that sweet serotonin hit.) 

*

Phil walks in looking gloomy. 

"You're a stormcloud today," Dan says. The coffee shop is empty, by virtue of the fact that almost everything else on the street is closed early. 

He doesn't mind people thinking this place isn't open. It'll make for a peaceful day now that he's gotten the one thing he wanted out of it secured. 

"I'm meant to be with my parents right now." Phil takes a seat at the long bar section toward the end of the counter, then slumps over with his head against his crossed arms. "But I missed my flight because of the drone thing and now that they're finally letting me re-book on another flight my mum calls to say they won't even be in when I get there tomorrow. They've got plans." 

"Wow," Dan says. "Harsh. Rejected by the mum." 

"They're seeing The Nutcracker. They had a ticket for me, she said, but they gave it away to the neighbors little boy." Phil sighs dramatically. "Give me something sugary, please, barkeep. And make it a double." 

Dan grins. Phil doesn't even give an actual order half the time anymore, he just pouts at Dan and requests something with too much sugary flavored syrup. 

He goes for a hazelnut vanilla latte with a splash of the leftover pumpkin spice from their fall seasonal drinks, then sets about to create a visual masterpiece that surely will finish the job of wooing Phil Lester. 

He's been practicing all week. Christmas trees are easy, bit of a back and forth with the syrup and it's right there plain as day. Angels are a snap as well but he doesn't go much for that overly religious shit. 

So he keeps it simple but seasonally appropriate, then slides the ceramic cup toward Phil. 

Phil stares down at it with a frown, then back up at Dan. "Is that-"

"Yeah?" Dan grins expectantly. 

"-a penis?" 

"What?" Dan pulls a shocked expression. "No, you idiot, it's a fucking silver bell!" 

"It's just-" Phil starts to laugh, proper laughing so hard he can barely talk. "Dan, look at the shape! and the two round bits at the bottom! That looks like a penis!" 

"You, you fucking-" He loses steam because now that he's looking at it, he can definitely see what Phil means. "Let me try again." 

Dan starts to pull the cup back away, but Phil reaches out and grabs Dan's hands before he can. "Nuh uh," he says. "That's my penis art and you can't have it back." 

In the next moment a thing happens to Dan that happens to him on a regular basis, though almost never to such disastrous proportions. The words fly out of his mouth: "Oh, so you like the dick, do you?" 

Phil stares at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "I can't believe you just asked me that." 

"Sorry." Dan feels a surge of dread turn his stomach upside down. This is always the thing - like a two-fold test to pass or fail. Is the person he fancies straight? Are they homophobic? 

And even though it's someone else's personality flaw he's always the one who walks away feeling like he lost something if either question falls in an unfavorable direction. 

He picks up a cloth and starts to mindlessly wipe circles on the counter. 

"No, I just - Dan!" Phil frowns. "I only... thought it was obvious, you know." 

"Obvious?" Dan's hand stills. 

"Yeah, you know." Phil starts to look slightly nervous. "That I come in here so much because I fancy you. Were you not - was all of that not... flirting?" 

"Yeah," Dan admits. "It was. You're just - friendly with everyone."

"I specifically ask for you!" Phil says, exasperated. "I learned when your shifts are and I come ten minutes out of my way for a coffee. Even when I'm running late!" 

It's probably stupid how much Dan loves hearing that. "I learned how to do latte art to impress you." 

Phil's grin is huge. "Dan." 

"Yeah?" Dan feels jittery with how much of a pleasant overload this is. 

"What time do you get off work today?" 

"I'm here until one, but it's so quiet that I could probably leave when Cal clocks in. Why?" Dan grins. "Need a ride to the airport?" 

"My flight's tomorrow," Phil says. 

Dan grins even wider. "I know." 

Phil balls up a napkin and throws it at him. "I was just going to ask you on a date! Now you've ruined it being all - actually, never mind, I shouldn't be surprised, you did draw a penis in my coffee after all." 

Dan throws the napkin right back. "Yes, by the way. I'll go out with you." 

*

Sunday looms dreary and rain-filled. 

Dan wakes up in a brighter room, staring at a brighter ceiling. 

Phil rolls over, trying to snuggle but accomplishing not much more than mashing his face just under Dan's armpit. He pulls back and makes a face. "Has anyone ever told you that you smell like coffee?"


End file.
